


Study Buddy

by Luna_rose140



Category: Slaughterhouse Rulez
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Homophobic Language, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_rose140/pseuds/Luna_rose140
Summary: Houseman declares a new order at Sparta
Relationships: Don Wallace/Mattthew Clegg, Willoughby Blake & Don Wallace
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Study Buddy

Three months. Don had been a student at Slaughterhouse for a matter of three months and he had just about had it. What with Willoughby’s constant childish nicknames or Clegg watching his every move like a hawk. 

He missed his mum. He missed playing Xbox with Mikey and the boys. Life at Slaughterhouse was not the Roman cathedral seen in the adverts. Willoughby was right it was hell. 

He could hear Clegg down the hall yelling at Hargreeves to get out of bed. What he could want with them that early on a weekend was going to be bad. Whatever it was. Another day in hell. He could now understand why Willoughby has the tally marks on the back of the door. One day down. God knows how many to go.

“Better get up before Clegg has our heads.” Chibwe grumbles from across the room. From what Don can see, Chibwe is horrifically attempting to tie his tie while Bello stares absent minded laughing at his struggle. Willoughby’s bed is empty however. As it is most mornings. He’s usually in their private study room getting his early morning snuff fix. 

Ten minutes later Don has mostly awoken and dressed himself. The rest of his roommates have made their way downstairs. Before he can leave however, somebody is blocking his path. The shiny black combat boots are an easy tell tale sign to who it is. 

“Just making sure everyone heard the order.” He says smiling. 

“I think the whole school heard you. Maybe even the whole country.” Don grumbles back, too tired to engage fully in the conversation. 

“You think you’re so smart don’t you Wallace. Well given the path you’re headed on you’re going to be picking up my garbage. Just like your father.” Clegg sneers. His face getting closer with each sentence. Don backs away, trying not to get caught in the spit spray. 

“Just what I thought. A coward that hides behind a mask of a courageous man.” Clegg says before pulling him into the common room. 

Don takes the closest seat to where Clegg pushes him. Not awake enough to push their fight any further. The Houseman, Meredith stands in front of the group. Ready for what god awful event could happen that early on a Saturday. 

“It has come to my attention that we are the house that is falling most behind in our studies. I know for some of you that is not true. But the numbers don’t lie. Those who’s grades are below 70% average will be paired with those who are above. To hopefully bring the numbers up and bring honour to house Sparta once more.” He says. The last part bringing snickers from the back of the room. Not seconds later, Clegg brings the riding crop he carries with him down on the table. The snickers stop immediately and Don is finally, properly awake. Out of the corner of his eye he almost mistakes a smirk on Clegg’s face in response to the crop scaring the hell out of him. 

“Now onto the pairings. I have chosen carefully. Trying not to get any friend groups together. We need a little bit of order in all of this. Now the list. Where did I put the list.” Houseman starts, before patting his pockets in an aimless fashion. If it weren’t the death glare Clegg was giving, the snickers would have started up again. 

“Here it is!” Houseman says, finally producing a folded scrap of graphing paper from his waistcoat pocket. 

“Blake and Hargreeves.” Don can see Hargreeves subtly high five Willoughby under the table. 

“Bello and Wootton. Chibwe and Tomkinson.” Houseman continues. Don hasn’t heard his name yet. The Houseman continues until Don’s the only one left. 

“Excuse me sir but you haven’t said my name yet and you’ve grouped everyone else.” He says, his voice still scratchy from the abrupt sleep disturbance. 

“Oh yes. Wallace you’re to be working with Clegg.” Houseman says. Don feels his heart drop. His stomach does that thing that happens when you go on a roller coaster. 

—:—

Don doesn’t know how long he sits there processing it but when he looks back up, the Houseman is gone. Along with over half the house. Only a couple boys sit playing a game of checkers in the corner. 

“Are you done moping? We have a lot of ground to cover if we are to get you to Slaughterhouse standards.” He hears Clegg say from over his shoulder, near his ear. Don turns abruptly to see Clegg’s face mere inches from his, where it was positioned at his ear. Clegg stands up and turns to walk away. He turns his head back for a moment and tilts it in saying “are you coming?” Don scrambles after him, not really in the mood to do twenty laps around the lake. 

He follows Clegg to what he assumes is his private Prefect’s quarters. The room is as neat as the man himself. A drastic change the what Willoughby and the other boys had done to their room. 

“You are to adhere by three rules for these study sessions. 1. Don’t be late. 2. No stupid questions. 3. We will be doing these until your grade average increases to a suitable place, so you best work hard. Any breaking of these will result in punishment.” Clegg says, bringing the crop down onto his outstretched hand during the last sentence. 

“Are we clear?” Clegg asks. Don just nods. Eyes fixed on the crop, silently praying that they don’t use corporal punishment at Slaughterhouse. 

—:—

Study sessions were going well. Surprisingly Don’s grades had actually gone up. What years of his mum’s constant nagging couldn’t do, fear of being being beaten could. Clegg, as it turned out wasn’t that bad once you got used to him. Give it another month and Don would consider him almost an ally. 

Everything seemed to be on the up and up until the one day Don decided to finally give in to Kay’s constant begging for him to join her and Clemsie at Smokers Corner. Don has been avoiding Clemsie after an unfortunate drunk sexcapade. Which left their friendship in a weird place. He wasn’t going to deny that in the first few weeks he had been at the school he was into her, but once he got to know her it faded. 

He was sat next to Kay while Smudger and Clemsie were trying to recreate a brother-sister dance they had done in elementary. 

“Kay what’s the time?” Don asks, ciggie hanging loosely from his lips as he takes another drag. 

“3:15.” She says, peering down at her watch. Don’s eyes widen in fear and realization. 

“Fucking shit I’m late.” He yells gathering his stuff. He hands the remainder of his cig to Clemsie, before racing to Sparta. 

“10 minutes and 43 seconds.” Clegg says from his desk as Don makes it to the door. He’s out of breath and his heart is like that of a hummingbird. The ciggie was in hindsight not the best idea before running a kilometre and a half. 

“That’s how late you are. what was the first rule Wallace?” Clegg says, twirling a pencil in between his fingers. 

“Don’t be late.” Don mumbles, still catching his breath. Clegg stands from his desk and marches over to where Don is leaning on the doorframe. 

“What was that?” Clegg asks again. 

“Don’t be late.” Don says a bit louder. He breath stable enough so he can stop leaning for support. 

“Yes and what did I say what would happen?” Clegg asks, his face dangerously close to Don’s. 

“Punishment.” Don simply says. Clegg grabs him by the arm and pulls him away from the door before slamming it shut. Don winces as the wooden door nearly splinters from the sheer force. Clegg pushes him towards the armchair so much that he barely has time to break his fall onto it. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Clegg grab something from the desk. Don sits up to see its the riding crop. 

“Now regulations state that punishment is to be administered to the palms o f the student. But given the fact that you need your hands to be in good shape for your exams next week, palms are not an option.” Clegg says. His hands gripping the crop so much his knuckles have gone white. 

“Or I could just do ten laps around the lake and call it even. Besides I don’t think this is legal anymore.” Don tries. 

“Don’t worry the rules to most schools don’t apply to the private sector. Besides we need something that will make sure you don’t make to same mistake again.” Clegg explains. Don can feel Hund hands starting to sweat. He knows what Clegg intends to do. He’s heard the stories his Gran has about her school day. 

“I can tell by the look in your eyes that you know what is coming. Please position yourself over the desk. I won’t ask again.” Clegg orders. Don doesn’t waste a second. The next thing he knows, he’s bend over the desk. Arms bracing the back of it in preparation. 

“Clearly you didn’t hear me correctly. I said prepare yourself.” Clegg says from behind him. Don is slightly confused. But only for a second. Moments later he understands, become increasingly terrified as Clegg has pulled his trousers and pants to his ankles. Don prays Clegg has locked the door. He would rather not have the whole of Sparta knowing he was a coward. 

“One Hit for every minute you were late. I want you to count out loud if we’ll start over. Understood?” Clegg orders. Don just silently nods. It feels like forever before the first swat of the crop comes down, hitting his ass square on. 

“One.” He says, remembering to count. The crop comes down again, thankfully not in the same spot. Which is now starting to burn. 

“Two.” Clegg continues one after the other, Don counting after each one. In fear of having to start over. His bottom has started to numb from all the abuse. 

“Ten.” He slightly sobs out. As soon as Clegg finished with his punishment, Don slid to the floor. Tears started to flow freely around seven or eight. Clegg bore no mind. Don honestly believed that he enjoyed it. The sadist fuck. Though he wouldn’t be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it at all. Don could feel his painfully hard cock aching for relief. 

“You just keep surprising me Wallace.” He hears Clegg say as the blonde boy crouches next to him. 

“Seems you actually enjoyed yourself. Who know you were such a masochist.” Clegg says eyeing Dons cock, which had since started to leak precome. Don just kept his eyes down. Not wanting to embarrass himself further. 

“Well isn’t seems you weren’t the only one.” Clegg says standing up once more. Don looks towards the taller man. His eyes level with Clegg’s crotch, his cock straining against the confines of his uniform trousers. Don glances up at his as Clegg opens up the front of his pants to release it. 

“What are you doing?” Don asks, voice filled with worry. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at Bello and Smudger. The same way Willoughby looked at his old roommate. Two fags one room. Who knows what you two get up to in there. Now if you don’t want me telling the rest of Sparta what happened today. You will suck my cock.” Clegg says. 

“If you wanted me to suck you off you should have just asked. Been blowing Bello in the showers for about a month now.” Don explains. He wraps his mouth around Clegg’s cock before he can answer. Clegg just lets out a guttural moan before slightly fucking into Don’s mouth. 

Don wraps his hand around the bit of the shaft his mouth can’t reach. Clegg was well endowed. His other hand cupping Clegg’s balls. He comes off his cock a few minutes later to catch his breath. 

“What else do you do with Bello?” Clegg asks, looking down at Don. 

“If your asking if we’ve been shagging. It happened a couple times with him. A few other times with Smudger, who wanted to prepare for his indictment night. Why do you want to?” Don says, his hand lazily stroking Clegg’s cock. 

“Get on the bed.” Clegg orders. Don wastes no time, excitedly scrambling onto the perfectly made bed. He lay on his back, neck propped up on a couple pillows so he could see what was happening. 

“Are you prepped?” Clegg asks. Don shakes his head, definitely not expecting things would have gone this way. He watches as Clegg leans over to the nightstand, grabbing a travel sized bottle of lube. 

“Are you okay with this?” Clegg asks, very uncharacteristic of him. 

“Yeah. Fuck yeah man. Just hurry up and fuck me.” Don says impatiently. Clegg swats him on the thigh before pressing a lubed up finger into his hole. He moans at the intrusion. Clegg’s long fingers hitting places his own couldn’t. He adds a second along with the first and then another until his whole hand is nearly buried inside Don. 

“I think that’s enough. Even though I would love for you to fist me, another day perhaps. Now I just need you to fuck me into tomorrow.” Don says, his words full of desperation. Clegg doesn’t waste another second before lining up his cock and driving it home. Don clutches at his back, trying to grip onto something as Clegg sets a punishing pace. Don tries to muffle his moans, trying not to draw to much outside attention. Clegg’s grunts started to get shorter and shorter as his orgasm approached. Don grabbed his long forgotten cock and started to bring himself to his own orgasm. A few more strokes and he was there. A white light emitted behind his closed eyes as he felt Clegg’s orgasm shortly follow his own. He felt him pull out, bringing his cum with him as it leaked out of Don’s abused hole, he didn’t care. He was in an afterthought of bliss. 

“You have to get up. Blake will be wondering where you got to.” Clegg says after a few moments. Don turns his head to see a half naked Clegg sat cleaning his cock at the end of the bed. 

“Yeah I should probably go.” Don says moving to get up. Clegg’s hand catches him, punishing him back down. 

“Let me clean you up. Least I could do.” Clegg explains. Don watches as Clegg brings a wet wipe down to his ass. He moans at as the wipe cleans the outer mess Clegg left and the mess he made from his own cock. He lets Don sit up finally, once he finishes. 

They sit in silence as Don dresses himself. The only sound, Don wincing when his clothing come in contact with where his punishment was placed. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at 3:15. Not a moment later.” Don says. Walking towards the door. 

“Yes. And Wallace bring lube, my stash is getting dangerously low.” Don turns to see Clegg smirking at him as he closes the door behind him. 

Don finds Willoughby sitting on his bed reading his Latin homework. He winces as he sits down on his. 

“You owe me £30 Hargreeves!” Willoughby yells out the open door.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched this film while playing minecraft and wrote this fic when I should have been asleep. But it’s quarantine so fuck it!


End file.
